natalie’s hands

My friend, Natalie, cuts my hair. And every time she does, I’m fascinated by the process. I do seem to only manage to actually get to her to get my hair cut about three times a year, so that could be part of it…it’s fascinating because it doesn’t happen very often.

And there are other things, too, not the least of which is that a great haircut and good color can make you feel like a whole new person, like you just lost ten pounds without all of the veggies and general crankiness. It especially makes you feel like this when you haven’t had it done in six months and your hair no longer has dark roots but blonde tips (as someone very tall who lives in my house kindly informed me the other day – i’m not naming any names).

But there’s something about Natalie. She wears really long skirts and usually a tank top of some kind, so her arms are bare and you can see how she works, with a kind of complete absorption, like any artist, in what she’s doing. The way she moves around, the rhythm of her hands, the deftness and preciseness with which she pulls, and combs, and looks, and snip snip snips…it all seems to flow together, to move like a sort of gentle dance. Sometimes she hums, softly.

Did I mention that Natalie usually does my hair at about 10:00 pm? I’m usually barely awake anyway, and then when you add someone brushing my hair – well, I might as well be in some kind of zen trance. Meditation of The Follicle.

I guess I’m fairly fascinated with anyone who can really work with their hands, can really do something with them. Like throwing pottery, or playing the drums, or making great guacamole. It’s just that I don’t usually sit still and watch.

So I’m glad I got the chance to sit still with you last night, Natalie. Thanks for the great hair – I love being blonde at the beach…